After the Bath
by counterdogma
Summary: Harry took a bath and now his glasses have mysteriously disappeared. DH slash, oneshot.


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_After the Bath_

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Harry surfaced and shook his wet hair out of his eyes, reaching for his towel as he went. He was recuperating in the prefect's bathroom, having just experienced the worst Quidditch practice session ever. No one had flown well, and he'd ended up falling off his broom and landing in the mud, having been so distracted by another of Ron and Ginny's sibling spats that he was hit by a wayward Quaffle and lost his balance. He hadn't fallen far, just far enough to be sure that his ankle hurt slightly and he was covered in mud.

Wrapping his towel around his waist, he continued grumbling about the unfairness of the world as he searched for his glasses on the hard tile floor. He frowned a bit, squinting at the blur of white and green. His glasses were gone.

He sighed in exasperation, glancing around the bathroom hopefully. He couldn't see a thing without those glasses. With one last futile glance into the draining tub, in case they had fallen in, he rolled his defective eyes and decided to make a break for Gryffindor Tower. He had no doubt that he'd find Seamus and possibly Ron congratulating each other in the common room with an extra pair of specs when he got there.

Damn Seamus.

There wasn't much else he could do (aside from damning Seamus again). The house elves had taken his muddy clothes the second he'd gotten them off his back, and without his glasses, he couldn't even find a cupboard to get a robe out of. All he could do was head in the direction of the door and hope. He'd always thought he could find his way around Hogwarts with his eyes closed; here was his chance to find out if he was right.

Walking down the hall was uncomfortable, to say the least. He was barefoot and bare-chested, and terribly aware that curfew wasn't for another twenty minutes. Anyone could find him like this.

He couldn't help but curse his idiotic dorm mates again.

As he walked carefully up a flight of stairs, dodging the trick step, he heard soft footfalls behind him. He looked around, but of course, his eyesight allowed for nothing but colorful blurriness.

'The grey blur was a statue,' he thought to himself, 'And the black blur was... another statue?'

"Is there someone there?" he called tentatively. There was a scuffling sound, and the black blur disappeared.

Harry frowned and stepped onto the landing. "Look, I know you're there. Who are you?" A thought struck him. "Seamus? Is that you? Give me back my glasses, you ponce!"

He heard the scuffling noise again and gripped his wand, just in case. If it wasn't Seamus, he'd be willing to bet it also wasn't someone he wanted to talk to in this state, especially as they weren't answering him. And if it was Seamus, well, he'd want to keep the boy away from his towel.

He clutched his precious towel closer and called out again. "Whoever you are, say something. I have my wand!"

"Yes, but can you aim it?"

Harry jumped at the sudden voice behind him. "Malfoy?" he squinted carefully in the direction of the black blur. "Is that you?"

"No, Potter, it's Finnegan."

"Malfoy, have you got my glasses?"

"Glasses?" There was a definite timbre of amusement in his voice now. "You've not got your glasses? That's irresponsible, don't you think, Potter?"

Harry glowered in his general direction. "Malfoy. Have. You. Got. My. Glasses?"

"No." Malfoy sounded like he was trying not to laugh. Harry wished he could see his face, so he could tell if the Slytherin was lying.

Wait. Of course he was lying. This was _Malfoy._

Harry sighed. "Malfoy, give me my glasses."

"I don't actually know if they're yours, Potter," Malfoy said evasively. "I mean, I just found them, lying there on the ground. They could belong to anyone. I think that Ravenclaw, Goldstein might have glasses…"

"Anthony Goldstein does _not_ have glasses, as you well know," Harry said irritably. "And where did you find them_ lying on the ground?_ Maybe in the prefect's bathroom?"

"Do you want to see if they're yours, Potter?" Malfoy asked helpfully.

Harry sighed again. "Yes, I would like to see them, Malfoy."

Malfoy held them up in front of his face. They were a small black blur. "There, you've seen them. Are they yours?"

Harry nearly snarled at him. "Malfoy…"

"Oh, fine," Malfoy said petulantly. He stepped closer to Harry. They were nearly touching.

Harry resisted the urge to step back and instead asked, "Malfoy, what are you doing?"

"Hold still," Malfoy said softly, and held the glasses up to Harry's face so he could see through them. Harry reached up to take them, but Malfoy pushed his hand down again.

"Patience, Potter," he said, and suddenly Harry could see.

Malfoy was _very _close.

Harry took an involuntary step back and realized that Malfoy hadn't actually put the glasses on his face. He'd just held them up in front of his eyes for a second.

"Those are mine," he said quickly, holding out his hand.

"Are they?" Malfoy asked lightly. Harry could tell he was smirking.

"I'd like them back now?"

"Hmm…I don't know, Potter. I kind of like you like this." Harry heard him fold up the glasses and put them in his back pocket, and could tell he was being closely inspected from head to toe. "You look so…vulnerable…"

Harry shivered in spite of himself. He was suddenly reminded of his half naked state, and took another step back. Malfoy laughed softly and suddenly disappeared to Harry's left. Harry spun around, eyes wide, but couldn't find him.

Warm hands trailed down his back, and Harry jumped a mile, clutching at his towel again.

"Malfoy, what the hell are you playing at?" he asked, his voice slightly higher than he would have liked.

"Do you want your glasses?" Malfoy asked directly into his ear, and Harry shivered again.

"Yes," he said, turning around sharply and extending a hand again.

Instead of the cool plastic he expected, another hand took his.

"Then follow me."

Harry resisted for a moment. "Where do you think you're taking me?"

"We're going to Gryffindor Tower," Malfoy said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And then you'll get your glasses."

"Why can't you just give them to me now and let me find my own way?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Because," Malfoy said, and Harry was pretty sure he was being stared at again. "I want to enjoy the view for a bit longer."

Harry shifted uneasily and wished his towel covered more. Then Malfoy tugged on his hand and led him down the corridor to a set of stairs.

"Careful, Potter," he said, sounding almost caring. "Don't want to stub your toes."

Harry squinted at him askance, and Malfoy grinned. Harry could tell, even without his glasses.

"If you stub your toes, you'd be hurt and I might have to carry you…"

Harry's eyes widened slightly and he fought a blush. Why, he didn't know, but he wasn't about to question it. Suffice it to say that Malfoy didn't seem to mind the idea of carrying Harry in the slightest.

They climbed the stairs in silence, aside from Malfoy's warning at the first landing, and Harry spent the time very aware that he was essentially holding hands with Malfoy.

It wasn't half bad, actually, but that wasn't the point. The point was that he was _holding hands _with Malfoy.

"Through here," Malfoy said, leading Harry toward a tapestry he wasn't sure he remembered. It really was difficult to tell without his glasses, and he wished Malfoy would just give them back.

"What's through here?" Harry asked distrustfully, tugging at his hand.

Malfoy paused and said, "Shortcut."

Alarm bells went mad inside Harry's head.

"Shortcut?" he asked skeptically.

"Don't tell me you don't know of it," Malfoy said incredulously. Harry couldn't tell if he was faking without being able to see him. "You go through this tapestry, it leads you up to the sixth floor, then you take the second staircase and you're in the hall where your Fat Lady is. Shortcut."

"How do you know where the Fat Lady is, anyway?" Harry stalled, trying frantically to remember if there was a shortcut like the one Malfoy had just described on his map.

"Please Potter," he scoffed. "Go on and tell me you didn't find out exactly where the Slytherin common room is in your first week."

"I didn't!" Harry exclaimed. He had just remembered that there actually _was_ a shortcut like the one Malfoy had described, although it wasn't really a shortcut, as it took ten minutes longer than the normal way. He decided to go along with Malfoy for now, and allowed the other boy to pull him along on the 'shortcut'. He still had his wand, and he could aim well enough with his eyes closed that he had no worries about his ability to defend himself.

"Sure," Malfoy said skeptically. "But you know where it is now, am I right?"

Harry was silent. He had the Marauder's Map, of course. Not to mention that Malfoy himself had unknowingly let them inside in second year.

"There," Malfoy said triumphantly. Harry grinned in spite of himself.

"Yeah, I guess I do know. But I have to say, your common room is rather dank. How you live there I'll never understand."

"You've been inside?" he asked in disbelief, nearly tripping on a stair. It was at this point that Harry realized that Malfoy had been leading him around for the past five minutes or so without Harry paying any attention to where they were.

"Er, yeah," Harry said distractedly, trying hopelessly to figure out where they were. "Don't tell me you didn't find a way inside the Gryffindor common room at least once by second year."

"Second year?" Malfoy sounded impressed, in spite of himself. Harry took a second to marvel at the lack of scathing insults in their conversation thus far. It was rather strange, now that he took a second to think about it.

"You led us in yourself," Harry revealed, deciding to continue with the 'friendly' approach they seemed to have taken so far.

Malfoy stopped dead. "I did not!" he exclaimed incredulously.

"Actually, you did," Harry said, thoroughly enjoying Malfoy's shock.

"When?" Malfoy asked doubtfully.

"Hmm," Harry said teasingly. "What if I don't want to tell you?"

Malfoy led him through a door, which he slammed shut behind him and pressed Harry up against rather suddenly. The sudden change surprised Harry, and he didn't resist in time to prevent Malfoy from pinning his wrists to the wall above his head.

"Tell me," Malfoy said in a low voice, nose to nose with Harry. Harry swallowed hard and took a deep breath, causing his chest to come into contact with Malfoy's robes. He was reminded, yet again, of his lack of clothing.

"No?" Harry tried, because even if he was trapped, he was a Gryffindor, dammit, and he was far too stubborn to take the easy way out.

Malfoy blinked at this unexpected audacity, and stepped closer until any space that had been between them was a memory.

He was close enough that Harry could see it when he raised his eyebrows. Harry remained silent, eyes wide, and Malfoy gave him a small smirk.

"I can and will torture you until you talk," he said ominously, leaning closer. Harry closed his eyes and wondered why he didn't just tell Malfoy about the Polyjuice Potion.

Then Malfoy took his earlobe between his teeth and _licked_, and Harry had to try very hard to remember what potion he'd been talking about, and what exactly was a potion, anyway?

"Well?" Malfoy asked, his breath tickling the wet spot on Harry's ear. Harry sucked in a breath and shook his head. If this was the torture, he'd never talk. Never mind that it was Malfoy doing the torturing. He was good at it, so what? If Harry was going to be tortured, he decided, he wanted it to be by someone who was good at it.

Malfoy pulled out his wand and fastened Harry's wrists to the wall before Harry could stop his mental babbling and pay attention. Not that he could do anything about it anyway, Harry thought distractedly, watching as Malfoy stepped back slightly and looked him up and down.

"So vulnerable," he murmured, and Harry shivered again, feeling very exposed in his towel.

Malfoy stepped forward again and ran his fingers down Harry's chest. Harry bit his lip, and Malfoy leaned close enough to tease Harry's neck with his tongue and teeth. Harry bit his lip harder, refusing to make a sound as Malfoy worked his way up to his ear again. He couldn't suppress a gasp, though, when Malfoy licked Harry's lip, then bit it himself.

"Tell me," Malfoy breathed. Harry opened his mouth to say no, but Malfoy didn't wait for a response, instead kissing him hard and thrusting his tongue into Harry's mouth. Harry, who found that he was feeling strangely accommodating at the moment, allowed it, even going so far as to kiss back and arch into Malfoy, who responded by pressing closer.

They dueled by way of teeth and tongue for several long minutes, until Malfoy eventually pulled back and leaned his head against Harry's shoulder, whispering, "Tell me," again.

"What was I supposed to tell you again?" Harry asked breathlessly. Malfoy paused and looked up at him dazedly.

"Er…"

"I'm sure it wasn't important," Harry said, deciding that he wanted Malfoy to either unbind his wrists or kiss him again, he didn't really care which.

Malfoy obliged him by nodding and kissing him again, and soon he was tugging at Harry's towel. Another twenty minutes or so was spent making Harry gasp and moan and wonder why he'd never done this with Malfoy before, because this was obviously the best feeling in the world.

They paused for another breather. Malfoy ran his hands down Harry's bare torso again and kissed him once more before pulling Harry's towel back into position and slipping his glasses onto his nose.

Everything suddenly came into focus, and Harry saw Malfoy standing in front of him, looking thoroughly snogged. Malfoy didn't look as confident as he had sounded before; in fact, he looked very slightly nervous, and as though he was trying very hard to hide this fact. Coupled with his bruised lips and red cheeks, Harry couldn't help but let the word _vulnerable_ chase itself across his mind, never mind the fact that _he_ was the one whose wrists were bound to the door. _Adorable_ also made an appearance, but he shut that thought out quickly. Malfoy would kill him if he knew Harry was thinking something like that, never mind the fact that he shouldn't be thinking of Malfoy as adorable. Even sexy would be better than adorable.

Then he realized that he was thinking of Malfoy as sexy, and blinked. The object of his musings was still standing there, looking progressively more nervous the longer Harry stayed silent.

"Malfoy," he said, and Malfoy raised an eyebrow in question. "Can you untie me now?"

Malfoy's shoulders seemed to droop slightly. He raised his wand and muttered something, and suddenly Harry could move his arms. Harry sighed and rubbed one of his wrists, and took a second to wonder _why_ he had been kissing his rival, and then looked back up at Malfoy, who was looking at a suit of armor to his left.

_Vulnerable_, he thought again. He couldn't help but smile slightly at the thought. The tables had been turned, it seemed. He would think about the consequences later.

Harry fastened his towel more firmly around his waist and started toward Draco, who looked up at him in slight surprise. He didn't give Draco time to react before he pulled the other boy forward by his tie and kissed him firmly on the lips. Draco responded fervently and opened his mouth under Harry's. Harry maneuvered them around until Draco was up against the wall, and allowed his hands to wander, searching out Draco's wand, as his own lay forgotten on the floor somewhere. Draco, who was very busy with Harry's mouth, didn't notice this. Harry found it, and slid his hands down Draco's biceps to his wrists, gripping them firmly and pinning them to the wall in an imitation of what Draco had done to him before.

Draco froze.

Harry used this time to cast the binding spell, then stepped back to admire his handiwork, a small smile playing about his lips.

Draco looked as though he wasn't sure how to feel about this new development.

"Just returning the favor," Harry explained, untying Draco's tie and dropping it carelessly on the floor.

He looked up at Draco again to see him staring back questioningly. Harry couldn't resist a look like that. He rested his forehead against Draco's and breathed in deeply before kissing him once on the lips. Draco leaned into him and Harry kissed him again, forgetting everything else.

"I remember," Draco said between kisses. Harry had no idea what he was talking about.

"What?" he asked, kissing along Draco's jaw line.

"What I wanted you to…to tell me," Draco continued, gasping when Harry found a sensitive spot.

"What was it then?" Harry asked distractedly, continuing his explorations.

"How did you…" Harry kissed him. "Get me… to let you in my common room?" Draco finished. There was a pause where Harry kissed Draco once more before looking up at him and grinning cheekily.

"You didn't know who it was. We used Polyjuice."

Draco's eyes widened. "In second year?"

"Yup," Harry said, leaning his arms against the wall on either side of Draco and leaning in for another kiss. "We ran into Percy Weasley too."

"Who were you Polyjuiced as?" Draco asked nervously. Harry quirked an eyebrow at his tone and answered.

"Crabbe and Goyle," Harry said, and watched Draco relax slightly. "Why?"

"I was just worried…" Draco said, sounding rather relieved. "I don't normally talk to them about anything _really_ important, you know?"

"What would you have been worried about telling me?" Harry asked, slightly amused. "It's not like you _were_ the Heir of Slytherin, and that's the information we were after."

Draco blinked. "You _actually_ thought I was…?"

"Hermione did," Harry said defensively. "And Ron…and maybe me a little too…" he admitted sheepishly, attempting to avoid Draco's amused eyes, which was rather difficult at close range.

"Wow," Draco said, sounding rather flattered. "I'd assumed you just wrote me off as too obvious a choice or something. Everyone else kept saying I was, but I heard you even told some Hufflepuff it wasn't me."

Harry grinned, still leaning slightly on Draco. "I had concrete proof, straight from the source. I guess it was too obvious anyway."

Draco nodded in agreement. "It really was. So do you still feel like going back to Gryffindor Tower?"

Harry nodded and looked down at his towel pointedly. "I need some clothing."

Draco pouted slightly, and looked as though he disagreed with that statement. Harry couldn't help but smirk at him as he said, "But you can come with me if you want. I imagine it'll be the first time you've ever been inside, right?"

Draco raised an eyebrow and responded, "I've never dabbled in Polyjuice Potion, if that's what you mean. That was rather Slytherin of you, did you know?"

Harry said nothing to this, smiling secretively to himself as he vanished the binds on Draco's wrists and started leading him to Gryffindor Tower.

"Harry?" Draco asked suspiciously.

"You'll have to torture it out of me, Draco," Harry said, fighting to keep a straight face.

Draco pounced.

* * *

_A/N: Think of this as me having fun. Please don't overdo the critiquing._


End file.
